Special Talk Time
by Frederic Marile
Summary: Title is self-explanatory. Alan decides to get the whole gang in a room to talk out their feelings. Chaos inevitably ensues.


"I'm not enjoying this," snarled the rather tall woman from across the room at her ex-husband. She wore a red designer jacket and new-looking jeans. "I have an appointment with my psychiatrist in an hour and my God Alan this is all your fault."

"_Nobody's_ enjoying this, Judith," Alan reminded her with narrowed eyes, scratching an itch on his shoulder. He sported his traditional red-and-white plaid dress shirt and green slacks. "_Everybody_ has things they'd rather be doing right now."

"Whatever," Judith replied, placing her chin in her hands. "All I know is that when I get home I'm either overdosing or shooting myself in the head."

"Door two sounds more fun," the taller, expensive-looking man chuckled in his own white collared shirt and light blue shorts, resting his head over the top of his chair.

"Shut the-"

"Judith!" Alan almost yelled. She quieted down but continued to glare daggers at the previous speaker. "And don't be so insensitive, Charlie," Alan added with a glance at his brother.

"Hey Doc," called a plump woman around 40 wearing a pink T-shirt and blue shorts through the metal door, "do you got anymore popcorn? This is getting good!"

"You are in here to resolve issues," Dr. Freeman answered over the intercom. "And until I see some resolving, Mr. Harper is paying $100 an hour. So get something done."

"Quick, nobody resolve anything!" Judith ordered, crossing her arms and staring at Alan.

"Must you always attack me with cheap insults?" Alan demanded.

"Trust me, if it weren't more efficient than broken glass, that would be my choice," Judith replied with a smug expression. Alan stared at the floor.

"I'm questioning my idea to ask for this at this point," he said to nobody in particular.

"Well, you weren't drunk, so you have to blame it on your own sick, twisted mind," Charlie noted.

"Hey, you are not in a position to make snide comments about being drunk," Alan said angrily.

"I'm just glad you invited me," a young woman in a blue blouse and a purple skirt with thin white stripes. Of all of the unwilling participants, she was the only one standing.

"I didn't invite you, you invited yourself, Rose," Alan told her. "If I remember correctly, most of us actually didn't _want_ you to join us."

"Well as long as Alan's against it, I'm glad to have you here, Rose," Judith beamed, hopping up and giving the girl a hug. Rose blinked a few times but returned the oddly placed embrace.

"Am I supposed to respond to any of this?" wondered a tall 40-something man from his seat.

"Be quiet, Herb," Judith commanded, returning to her seat.

"I'll think aloud if I feel like it," Herb told her spitefully, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. Judith shot him a deathly glare.

"Okay let's do some resolving!" Alan laughed nervously. "Uh…Mom, why don't you start? Mom? …Evelyn!"

From her secluded chair, Evelyn snapped back in to reality. "Oh, sure, of course," she droned. "Well…what exactly am I supposed to talk about?"

"Just anything," Alan told her. "Tell us what you feel about us or some crap like that."

"Well, I guess I'll start with my sons," Evelyn decided. "Any objections? Good. Now…Charlie. I've always felt that you were the failure child."

"Love you too, Mom," Charlie replied with a smile.

"But I want you to know that I wanted you to succeed with all my heart-"

A disapproving snort came from Judith. Evelyn gave her a questioning look. "You sure didn't 'want' enough, did you?" Judith asked. "And as long as I have your attention, I blame you for Charlie being a bad influence on Jake."

"Judith, this is Evelyn's time," Herb attempted to calm her.

"Shut _up,_ Herb," Judith demanded. "Stop trying to tell me what to do."

"Remember when you said you would pay me to sit through this?" a boy in his late teens asked Alan. "Well keep your money, I'm leaving."

"Nobody's leaving, Jake," Dr. Freeman explained. "Not until you people learn to understand each other."

Evelyn continued to speak. "Like I was saying, Charlie, I really tried to help you…well, _do_ something with your life. I tried to get you into a good performing school, and you simply blew it off! I did my best with you, I really did, but don't blame me because you couldn't be something." She glared at Judith at these words.

"Um…jingle writer?" Charlie reminded her. "I am something, in case you forgot."

"Oh, I'm sorry darling," Evelyn apologized, "I meant something _worthwhile._"

"Now Mom, there's no call for that," Alan cut in. "Charlie has a job, just like you do."

"Oh, darling…" Evelyn sighed. "You have no idea how much it breaks my heart to hear you say something like that."

"Hey Doc, where's that popcorn?" Berta asked. A slot opened and a bowl of said buttered snack was shoved in. "I love watching the Whiny Rich People Show," she commented as she took the bowl and began to eat.

"_I'm_ not rich," Alan grumbled. "Though I might be if _somebody_ didn't keep demanding blood money _somebody_ doesn't need so _somebody_ can move the classier part of town."

"I know who _somebody_ is, Alan," Judith growled.

"Gee, really?" Alan asked with a sarcastic air of surprise. Evelyn sighed, giving up and returning to her corner.

"Can I go next if Evelyn's done?" Rose asked, swaying slightly.

"Sure, if you've got any issues," Alan confirmed. Charlie stared at him. "Yeah, definitely go ahead," Alan corrected him.

"Well, I think that we ought to tell each other what we _want,_ not just what we think-"

"And this is somehow all connected to me, right?" Charlie guessed. Rose bit her lip.

"I suppose I'm finished, then," she murmured as she finally took a seat.

"See you guys," Jake decided, walking towards the door and trying to open it. He found it wouldn't budge.

"Locked," Dr. Freeman told him. "None of you guys are leaving until all of you have expressed your emotions."

"We have, doctor!" Alan cried. "And I see no reason whatsoever why any of us should have to make up! This is hopeless!"

Freeman sighed. "Well, I'll admit I've seen some resolving, that's for sure," she agreed, unlocking the door. "I guess I'll let you leave, but I think-"

By shoving Alan and Berta aside, Judith effectively carved a path to the door and was out of the office in seconds.

"What is _wrong_ with her?" Dr. Freeman asked.

"I'd be paying you an extra five hundred bucks if I had to explain," Alan answered as everybody else exited the therapy room.


End file.
